


Uncle Jaime

by Janina



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-30 23:41:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19413898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Janina/pseuds/Janina
Summary: Sansa is in the process of getting divorced from Joffrey when "Uncle Jaime" shows up to check on her.





	Uncle Jaime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mynameisnoneya](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mynameisnoneya/gifts).



Jaime Lannister knew the last thing he should be doing was visiting Sansa Lannister née Stark. He knew his family, namely his father and his paternal twin Cersei, would see it as a violation of their twisted family code. The family dinner he’d attended the night before had been tense, and hearing them talk about Sansa so terribly had made him angry. 

_“She’s such a bitch,” Joffrey, his nephew slurred angrily at the table. It appeared to Jaime that Joffrey was following in Cersei’s footsteps and preferring a liquid dinner._

_“She thought she was too good for us, being a Stark and all,” Cersei said, her chin lifted in an air of snootiness. If her husband, Robert Baratheon, had been there, she wouldn’t have said such a thing. Robert and Ned Stark, Sansa’s father, were longtime friends. Robert had probably decided to skip out on the meal. Lucky him._

_Meanwhile, Jaime refrained from commenting that his dear sister thought she was better than_ everyone _\- including her own family. Well, perhaps except their manipulative father whom she strived to emulate. It was just easier to not say anything than to say something._

_“Is it any wonder why I had to find someone else?” Joffrey said and took a long hard gulp of his wine. “She was cold as ice. I had to find someone to fulfill my needs.”_

_Tyrion, his uncle, who was sitting across from him just looked at him, wholly unimpressed. Joffrey glared at him and made to toss the contents of his wine in Tyrion’s face only to realize his glass was empty._

_“She’s a whore,” Cersei said._

_“How can she be a whore_ and _cold as ice?” Jaime asked._

_They both looked at him and then at each other._

_“We’ll make sure she doesn’t take you for everything you’ve got, my love,” Cersei cooed to her son._

_“She won’t want anything,” Tyrion muttered. “Just to be let loose from the likes of you both.”_

_“Father!” Cersei exclaimed, turning to Tywin at the head of the table, looking as petulant as her son._

_“That’s_ enough _,” Tywin said in a tone that brooked no argument. Immediately, everyone went silent. Even the birds outside._

 _Then and there, Jaime knew he was going to check on Sansa. He had told himself he would stay out of it, no matter how much he liked Sansa - and that was probably_ too _much considering she was his nephews soon-to-be-ex-wife. In fact, that was the reason he had told himself to stay away: he didn’t want to tempt himself._

_She was the one he gravitated to at every family gathering they had. He didn’t find her cold or a whore or money-grubbing for that matter: he found her poised and intelligent and witty. Tyrion did too, because the three of them, plus Tyrion’s girlfriend Shae, were often all together. They were the outcasts despite how many times Cersei tried to drag him back into the family fold._

So now, here he was. Outside her door - or rather her friend Margaery’s door. Joffrey had kicked Sansa out when she’d found him in bed with some woman from work, and if Jaime had to guess, that was just the straw that broke the camel’s back when it came to her short, eighteen month marriage to Joffrey. 

Looking back, Jaime was certain cracks had begun to show as early as their first year together. Possibly even earlier than that. She had always put on a brave face and was always smiling and happy at family gatherings, but those smiles rarely reached her eyes as they had done before when she and Joff had been dating. 

The door opened, and there Sansa was looking even more gorgeous than before. Jaime figured time away from Joffrey had to be doing wonders from here. He was like a perpetual black sadistic cloud sucking the air and life out everyone around him. She was wearing black leggings and a long gray tank with sequins on the front. Her auburn hair was left long and flowing around her shoulders. She was also barefoot, which Jaime just found adorable. 

_I am the best uncle ever, seriously,_ he thought as he smiled broadly at her. She returned his smile with a frown. 

“Uncle Jaime. What are you doing here?” she asked. 

He winced at the “Uncle Jaime” bit. He was not her uncle, yet because that’s what Joffrey had always called him, Sansa did too. He had a love/hate relationship with the term from her lips. He loved that she called him something so familiar. And he also hated it because he was most definitely not her uncle. An uncle would not want their niece the way he wanted Sansa. He wanted her to just call him Jaime. Preferably moaning it in his ear while he had his cock firmly lodged inside her. 

“I came to check on you,” he said. “May I come in?”

Her frown deepened. “Check on me…? Why?”

“Because I’m worried about you. How are you holding up?” Why did she look like she didn’t believe him?

“It’s been almost a month, Uncle Jaime. Uncle Tyrion came by the first day. He’s even called. Why are you just coming around now?”

“Do you not believe I care?” he asked. 

“I believe Uncle Tyrion does. My attorney warned me to be careful of the family outside of him. So did my father.”

Jaime’s shoulders sagged. “That hurts, Sansa.”

“So does not checking up on me for a month. I thought we were close.”

“We were - we _are_.”

“Cersei is your sister. Joffrey is your nephew.”

“Tyrion is Cersei’s brother. Joffrey’s uncle.”

“He hates both of them they hate him. They do not hate you, and you do not hate them.”

He rolled his shoulders back, straightened. “You’re right. I don’t hate her. But that doesn’t mean I agree with everything she does. I typically don’t. At all. I just don’t broadcast it when I disagree.”

“Maybe you should. She listens to you.”

He snorted. “Hardly.”

“And Joffrey?”

He met her gaze straight on. “My nephew is a spoiled rotten prick. You think I don’t know that?”

After a few beats, she stepped aside and Jaime stepped inside. A plus red sofa in front of windows with sheer red curtains and a long black wooden coffee table and some kind of multi-colored cushioned chair greeted him. 

He caught a whiff of Sansa’s perfume in the air. 

“So, do you think I’m here to interrogate you?” he asked. “Find out what dirt I can get on you or something?”

“Cersei tried it already.”

Jaime turned to look at her. “What?”

She shrugged. “She came by after, pretending to be my best friend and oh so worried about me and apologetic and then tried to find out if I was fucking someone.”

Jaime gaped at her. Cersei had never said anything about that. But then if her plan hadn’t worked the way she wanted, she wouldn’t want to admit it. 

“Sansa, Gods, I’m sorry.”

She shrugged, but her lower lip trembled a bit. “It’s fine. I knew she never really liked me and honestly she hadn’t exactly been my favorite for quite a while, but it was still hurtful. And then when I didn’t hear from you. I mean, I know family is important...I’m a Stark, I know that better than anyone for God’s sake, but I thought you and I always had a special bond and--”

He didn’t let her finish. He ate the steps between them with his long legs and gathered her in for a hug. A long overdue hug. She burrowed into him and her shoulders shook. Jaime cupped the back of her head and rested his cheek on her crown. “Oh, sweet girl. I’m so sorry.”

Family _was_ important; his father had beaten that into all their heads their whole lives, but Jaime often wondered if you really had to stay by them even when they were fucking assholes. 

And Cersei and Joffrey were _giant_ fucking assholes. 

Sansa was young, just twenty-five. She didn’t deserve to have the lions toying with her. She didn’t deserve the torture that Joffrey had no doubt extolled upon her before the tryst she’d witnessed in her bed. 

“I’m an asshole,” he said. “I should have come sooner. I’m sorry.”

Sh pulled away, wiping at her eyes. “I snotted on your suit.”

“I don’t care.” He spotted some tissues on an end table and lightly grabbed her hand and pulled her with him to the couch. He plucked some tissues from the box and handed them to her. 

“Is this some kind of...mohair or something?” he asked, rubbing his hand on the couch. 

Sansa laughed, wiping at her nose. “Or something. Margaery is very...tactile.”

“Where is she, by the way?”

“With my brother.”

“Oh, right. They’re dating.”

“She’s moving in with him soon. She’s going to sublet this to me.”

“Does it come with the couch?”

She laughed again. “I don’t know. Do you want me to find out?”

“I do. It’s so hideous I actually like it.”

She giggled. “Uncle Jaime, I missed you.”

He smiled gently at her. “I missed you, too.” He gazed searchingly at her. “How _are_ you holding up? You look great.”

She blushed. “Do I? Thank you.” She chucked the tissues on the coffee table. “I’m...okay. I mean, being married to Joffrey was no picnic, and I’m more angry with myself for having not left sooner.”

“What did he do to you, Sansa? Before the affair.”

She sighed. “His moods were always up and down. It was like walking on eggshells with him. He blamed me. Said I had become boring and he hated being married to me. Then he started staying out all night. I knew he was probably having an affair, but I didn’t...I didn’t care. I wanted it over. But when I suggested a divorce, he screamed at me.”

“Did he hit you?” Jaime asked softly. 

“No. I think he knew if he did that would be it. And I think he was afraid of my brother. The only reason I caught him having sex in our bed was because I was supposed to still be on my business trip. I came home early though. A day early.” She sighed heavily. “And I’m so glad did.”

“You’re relieved.”

“I hate him,” she whispered. “I absolutely despise him, Uncle Jaime. He tried to break me. He tried so hard. And I wouldn’t let him. And he hated me more for it.”

“I want to punch my own nephew in the face,” Jaime muttered angrily. “He’s a twisted fuck. I knew he was.”

“Can we not talk about him anymore?” She got up from the couch. “You hungry? I just got back from the market when you showed up. I was going to make a lemon chicken in this really great sauce. Want to stay? You can tell me about you.”

“Not much to tell,” he said and stood. “But I’d be happy to stay and help you with dinner.”

She smiled and lunged at him, hugging him fiercely. Then she skipped off to the kitchen and a beaming Jaime followed. 

************

Two hours later, Jaime was enjoying the sound of Sansa’s snort as they traded stories of embarrassing moments over glasses of wine and cleared plates of lemon chicken and broccoli. 

Jaime leaned back in his chair, still chuckling over Sansa’s story of her pants falling down when she was ten in the middle of a book report at school. 

“I haven’t laughed this hard in a long time,” he told her. 

“Me too,” Sansa said, wiping at the tears of laughter in her eyes. “I think my leg has fallen asleep,” she said and slowly got to her feet. She picked up her plate and brought it to the sink behind her, and Jaime got up to help her. 

They moved silently about the kitchen, cleaning up from dinner. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence though, much to Jaime’s surprise. He’d thought perhaps without Tyrion and Shae there with them, it would be a bit awkward to be with Sansa alone, but it wasn’t. Not at all. Not even once. Jaime wanted this to happen again…and again and again and again.

He stood beside her at the sink, drying while she washed. Every once in a while their arms would brush against each other. When he stretched to put the plates away in the cabinet over her head, he found her watching him. He’d rid himself of his shoes, his suit jacket and tie, and was now in his button down shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. 

He was contemplating how to ask her over to his place for dinner one night this week while washing a plate when he felt water sprinkle his cheeks. He looked over at Sansa and found her smirking and trying to hold back a laugh. 

He narrowed his eyes and kept his gaze on her while putting the plate in the strainer and then dipping his hand in the soapy water and flicking some at her. She did the same, and then she took the hose - the goddamned hose! - and sprayed him. 

She squealed when Jaime tried to wrestle it from her and then they both ended up slipping and falling to the floor. 

They hit the floor with an ‘oof’ and they lay side by side, laughing until their sides hurt. Sansa rolled over onto her side and looked at him, her laughter petering out slowly. Jaime rolled onto his side, close to her now, laughing softly. 

Their laughter slowly died out and the air around them felt...charged. 

Sansa licked her lips and Jaime watched it. 

“Sansa,” he whispered. He wanted to kiss her, but he was afraid. What if he was misreading the situation? What if he was the only one feeling the energy crackling between them? It had been there all night like a low hum. Now it was as loud as an energy plant. 

“Uncle--”

He put a finger to her lips. “Jaime,” he said. “Just Jaime.”

She inched closer until he could feel her breath on his cheek. “Jaime.”

He barely let her finish saying his name before his lips were on hers, devouring her, tasting her. He gripped her hip and drew her even closer, kissing her as though this would be the last kiss he would ever have in his life. 

When he felt her hands on his shirt, he looked down and found her unbuttoning it. He growled and rolled her onto her back. He straddled her and got up on his knees to yank his shirt off, sending the remaining buttons flying. Sansa burst out in surprised laughter that was soon swallowed by his lips on hers again. 

She pushed at him, rolling him onto his back and fumbled with his belt. When it was gone, the snap and the zipper was next. Her hand went down his boxers and fondled him. He was hard already. Hard and ready for her, so _fucking_ ready. 

Jaime gasped. “I’ve never wanted anyone as much I want you.”

Her eyes went side. “You - when?”

“Always,” he breathed, and kissed her. “Always.” He rolled her over onto her back again and then rolled off to discard his pants and boxers. In the meantime, she had discarded her top. Jaime pulled her bra down until her breasts sprang free and he leaned in and sucked on one and then the other. 

“Jaime, my pants. I need them off; I need you inside me,” she urged. 

He moved to discard them, yanking her panties down and nearly tearing them off in the process. When she was bare to him, he spread her legs wide and stuck his face in her pussy. 

“Oh, God, you taste so sweet,” he moaned as he sucked on her clit. 

“Jaime,” she moaned, her hands carding through his hair. “Oh my God…”

He moaned, delving his tongue inside her as deep as it would go. He wanted it all. Everything. He couldn’t get enough. 

“Jaime,” she panted. “Jaime!” He felt her wetness hit his tongue. She was a squirter. Fucking hell, he loved it. 

Loved _her_.

He lapped at her cunt, savoring her and then kissed his way up her body, worshipping her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer. “Jaime,” she whispered and kissed him. It made him hotter knowing she could taste herself on him. 

“Do I need a condom?” he panted. “I have one in my wallet.”

“I’m on the pill,” she murmured. “Fuck me.”

Smart girl, preparing herself not to have Joffrey’s offspring. 

He met her gaze straight on as he slowly worked himself inside her. He felt her walls stretch to take him in. “Am I hurting you?”

“No.” She pushed him into her by his ass. “More.”

He began to move, and she with him. Her hands went to his hair and pulled him down for a deep kiss. “Touch me,” he murmured against her lips. “I want your hands on me. Everywhere.”

She moved her fingertips along his face. “Like this?”

“Yes, beautiful, sweet girl. _More_.”

She now moved her hands down his chest. “Like this?”

He was so close he felt like sobbing. “Sansa.” It came out like a desperate plea. 

Now her nails scraped up his back. 

Jaime adjusted them, pushing her legs back, his hands under her knees. 

Her eyes went wide again and then they shut tight as her neck arched and she screamed. 

He felt her tightening around him, pulsing, massaging his cock, and he let go inside her, shooting his seed deep. “Sansa!” he shouted. “Sansa, Sansa, Sansa…”

He let go of her knees and collapsed against her. They were both panting hard as they came down from their orgasmic high. 

He looked down at her gently, pushing some hair from her forehead. “Tell me you don’t regret it.”

“Do you?” she asked, her eyes bright, her skin flushed. Gods, she was so fucking beautiful she made his heart clench. 

“No. Not ever.”

She leaned up and kissed him softly. He moaned. “I don’t regret it,” she whispered. 

He kissed her languidly. “I know there’s a lot to consider here - the least of which is our twenty year age gap, but I don’t want this to be it, Sansa. I want you.”

Her lips curved into a smile. “I want you, too.”

He smiled and kissed her voraciously. “Let’s get off this floor, love.”

Two hours later as Sansa slumped against Jaime on the couch, utterly spent from another go, Jaime held her close and brushed her lips against her cheek. “I don’t like this couch,” he said in her ear. “I _love_ it.”

She giggled. 

He smiled wickedly. “And the kitchen floor as it turns out.”

She laughed. 

“I’m so glad you’re getting this apartment with all these things I love in it,” he murmured just before he kissed her.


End file.
